


I Saw Beauty to the North

by rivlee



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 03:51:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivlee/pseuds/rivlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chadara thinks on her past and her present in the moments before dawn. A follow-up to Never Had it Like This.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Saw Beauty to the North

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** This is all fiction based off the characters as portrayed in the Starz television series _Spartacus_. No disrespect or harm is meant or intended. 
> 
> **A/N:** Unbeated. Part of Femmeslash February.

There were words Saxa whispered into Chadara’s skin, rough and low, that sounded like benedictions and burned liked a brand. There were gestures she made, always blunt and halfway indecent, that often followed small gifts of found trinkets or smooth stones. Saxa was wild in a way Chadara never dreamt of finding attractive. Wild souls were unpredictable ones; unlikely to offer the stability required for protection in this world. 

It took her weeks to see it, but Saxa offered a different sort of protection in this world, a real kind, not just status and place. She fought and trained to keep them both alive and showed Chadara how to use the knives in order to save herself. The daggers felt at home in Chadara’s hands, unlike the sword and the bow which always left her feeling awkward and uncoordinated. She was once complimented for her grace of movement; no such praise fell to her when she fumbled arrow and sword hilt. The daggers were different, lighter, and easier for her to manage and carry. She would never reach the skill of Saxa, strong with a lifetime of lessons and instincts behind her, but Chadara had found power in the knowledge that she could be her own protection. 

Rough fingers lightly teased around the shell of Chadara’s ear, pulling her from thoughts. It wasn’t quite dawn though they would have to leave the warmth and comfort of their bed soon. Saxa would go on the hunt while Chadara would help take the linens to the river or assist with making the large pots of porridge, whichever task required her aid. She would go about her day only catching glimpses of sunlight off a mass of messy blonde hair or wisps of laughter trailing through the temple walls. The nights were theirs, when Saxa wasn’t on watch, to share warmth interspersed with intimate touch, to share legends, in between kisses, and to learn more of each other as the days passed. 

Saxa understood Latin almost perfectly, though she only spoke it to Chadara. Part of it was a pride thing; Chadara knew Saxa viewed it as an almost betrayal to speak confidences in her captor’s tongue. She made this one significant concession for Chadara, who learned more of Saxa’s language with each day yet remained far from fluent. Nasir and Auctus struggled along with her through the unfamiliar, though welcome, feel of the new words in their mouths. 

Camilla did speak true; those from their villa certainly had acquired a taste for men and women from east of the Rhine. 

“Speak thoughts?” Saxa asked, her breath fanning over the bare skin of Chadara’s shoulders. 

Chadara tangled her fingers in Saxa’s hair, cradling her head close, as she silently thanked the gods for such a gift bestowed upon her. When first granted freedom, Chadara saw only loss and devastation. She mourned over the life she had, ripped away by Spartacus and his rebels. She had risked and endured much to reach her position in the villa and it was all gone in moments, from one slash of the sword to the next. She carried on after, finding strength in witnessing Nasir and Auctus find happiness again. She never imagined she would comprehend what it truly meant to live, to _feel_ again, under the worn and patient hands of a female barbarian.

“I reflect on all you have taught and given me,” Chadara confessed. “I owe Tyche my gratitude.” 

Saxa raised her head. “Tyche?” she asked. 

“Fortuna,” Chadara explained. 

Saxa grinned. “Ah, you call her both to see blessings increased?”

Chadara smiled. “It could not hurt us to have more blessings, though I would not anger either goddess. The Roman names were spoken and worshiped in the villa though Auctus took pains to teach us of Greece. There were many of us scattered throughout that house; a sign of our dominus’ wealth.”

Saxa’s upper-lip curled at the mere mention of the man’s name. Chadara pressed her fingers to it before the curses could spill out.

“Peace, my warrior. Crixus saw to the man’s brutal end. Do not let such thoughts spoil our bed.”

“ _Nothing_ shall spoil our bed,” Saxa promised. 

Chadara took the words to heart; believing the vows fallen from such lips more than she ever had from a honeyed tongue and cultured accent. 

She knew little of the lands to the north, where winter seemed to keep all in its hold, where fighting spirits were formed by necessity for survival. She knew a handful of its gods, many of its curses, and a few of its songs. She knew that of its people she’d met, they felt everything passionately; love, anger, friendship, annoyance, all came in extremes. She knew love, from the beatufiul woman cuddled in her arms who cared little for all Chadara had done in her past. 

“How will I see this world again without you by my side?” Chadara asked. 

Saxa shook her head. “If you leave first, wait for me. If I leave first, I will greet you upon your arrival. There is no parting us for long.”

A shiver ran down Chadara’s spine as if the words came as omen. She would heed them and hoped they proved true in the end.


End file.
